The Butterfly Effect
by PXLight
Summary: The smallest flap of a butterfly's wings could be the pivotal factor to a hurricane's formation weeks later. A collision of fate tosses the prisoner surgeon, CR-S01 through events so unpredictable it could only be referred to as chaos. Random occurrences build up to the climax as his lost memories reveal that perhaps he wasn't the "hero" everyone had thought him to be.


**The Butterfly Effect**  
_Written by: PXLight_

Attractor 1 – Recurrence Plot 

The Chaos Theory is a branch of vector mathematics where seemingly random events are potentially predictable from simple deterministic equations. The word 'chaos' itself refers to a "state of confusion, lacking any order"; yet when in reference to the Chaos Theory, it could be said that this definition is flipped on its head. Everything is connected somehow much like the red string of fate that connects the destinies of several human lives present in several Chinese myths.

Want some proof?  
Frankly, I've seen this first-hand several times.  
And there's no better example than those that reside at the place where one shall rise again.

Humans are fascinating creatures; each person lives out their individual lives and on occasion these lives clash. Sometimes, this collision of fate can be insignificant and easily forgotten. Other times, it can change the lives of both humans forever. And then other times, the whole "collision of fate" concept is taken rather literally.

Papers went flying in the air when one chestnut-haired male walked into another well-dressed male while rounding the corner of Northwest 1st Avenue on their respective routes to work. Evidently, both strangers were not looking at what was ahead of them when they crashed into one another on the placid streets of Portland. A streetcar whisked by as the younger of the two helped the other up.

"I'm terribly sorry about this mishap." the older, blonde-haired man disclosed upon the other. He had a well-articulated North American voice; it showed off his higher education and potentially important status in society. "I was distracted by the papers in my—the papers!" Only now did the well-dressed man recall the rather important folder that had fallen out of his hand when he tumbled to the ground. Its contents were now sprawled all over the city sidewalk.

"Don't worry; I got that." The tuxedo-clad male watched as the younger man in the white collared shirt proceeded to get on his knees and pick up the individual papers. Fortunately, no one walked by during the entire event, so none of the papers had been trampled on or scattered further. Chuckling softly, he remarked, "Apparently, you're not the only one easily distracted by work."

To his surprise, the younger man was creating two stacks of papers in his hand. Upon closer inspection, it would seem that his papers were not the only ones dispersed all over the floor. That, and the other set of papers were records of some person. Considering how the information, name, and enclosed picture were of a female, these records were not of the red-eyed male before him. The man's eyes scanned through the visible information and realized that they were the medical records for a patient suffering from a malfunctioning nasolacrimal duct.

"She'll need a DCR." The older man bent down and picked up the last paper, which happened to flutter on a small breeze and land just by his feet. It was a side image of the woman's head with a circle around a particular area of the diagram in order to indicate the issue. There were a couple of footnotes that the man did not bother to read; after all, he already knew that this paper did not belong to him. He handed the paper to the red-eyed male, who in turn handed back the stack containing his own papers. "So you're in the medical field, Doctor?" he guessed.

"That's right. I'm a resident at Resurgam." He raised an eyebrow. "I was actually going to perform the dacryocystorhinostomy on her at 10." The young surgeon glanced at his papers and paused. He thought back to what this man had mentioned earlier. "...But you already knew that... so that means you work in medicine too, right?"

The male smirked openly. "That's right, though I'm no surgeon. I used to work in the virology department for at the local university during my younger years, though those days are long and gone. These days, I'm with a private company as a part of the R&D crew." He turned his hand, revealing the contents of the top page of his stack of papers. On the page was a complex diagram of a double helix DNA structure. Several notations were made alongside the DNA's backbones with lines pointing at particular anomalies in its ester bonds and polymers.

"Intriguing..." The young doctor glanced down at the brown Rolex, a gift from a fellow female surgeon, wrapped around his wrist. It was 8:45 AM, his rounds start at 9, and it was a twenty-five minute walk from this spot... that, and he was still under parole so he couldn't afford to be late. "I'm sorry, but I really have to get going. Sorry for bumping into you."

"That's fine, Doctor." The blonde-haired man extended a hand in apology. "Considering how we're in the same field and how I'll be in Portland for a couple of months, I'm sure we'll see each other again."

The crimson-eyed male accepted the hand gratefully. He used the same rehearsed smile he used as a part of his work-in-progress bedside manner. The smile itself was awkward, crooked, and showed no emotion aside from his nervousness. The young male mentally sighed at how unnatural it probably looked. "Right then. I'll be in Resurgam if you need me."

"Right—oh, I forgot to introduce myself." Maybe it was just the meeting that was occurring at the venue ten minutes from here, but the man was a forgetful mess. Blushing at his impolite mistake, he decided to mentally start over and properly introduce himself. "I'm Arthur Moore." he affirmed. "What is your name, Doctor?"

Now here was his issue. The doctor debated on telling him to truth or telling him to refer to him by his prison number. "I... I don't..." The surgeon stopped himself when he noticed that his hand was bleeding. "Dammit..." he muttered under his breath. He must have scraped his hand during the fall or while he was picking up the papers. The cut itself did not look too bad; after quickly self-diagnosing himself, he figured it would heal in a couple of hours. Still, it was an inconvenience.

"Oh, you're bleeding..." Moore noticed. "Here." From his pocket, Moore pulled out a bottle of Purel hand sanitizer. The surgeon timidly held his hand out and Moore squirted a few drops. Despite the sting, the doctor rubbed it around his hand apathetically.

"Thank you." The surgeon nodded. "My apologies, but I really have to get going or I'll be late for my rounds. I'll see you around, Mr. Moore!" Silently congratulating himself for slipping out of that awkward situation, the surgeon sprinted off down Northwest 1st street, leaving the virology expert on the corner. Moore watched as the young doctor rounded the corner towards the local hospital, Resurgam, and only then did he start on his way to the venue for the meeting.

Arthur Moore looked down at his small stack of papers and attempted to reorganize them in the proper order. Fortunately, none of them got wrinkled, but he did notice that something was off. He was about to go through the order one more time when he realized that he was about to walk into a lamppost. "I need to be more careful." Moore sighed exasperatedly. Giving up, he decided against looking at the distracting papers once more and focusing his attention on the road.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched all of this unfold. This occurrence is normally insignificant to the heavy, event-filled lives, but I knew that this was just one random event of many that would lead to the inevitable future of both men.

After all, things do not just occur randomly.  
And lives are all bound to one another.

* * *

**Resurgam**: "_I shall rise again_" [Latin]  
And all of the Trauma Team characters are residents at Resurgam.

A **DCR** is a surgical procedure done to restore the flow of tears into the nose from the lacrimal sac when the _nasolacrimal_ _duct_ is malfunctioning. This procedure can also be done through endoscopic means.

**Disclaimer**: _Trauma Team, all characters related, and Purel hand sanitizer does not belong to me._

...

So Oki-chan left me with a pretty decent (and interesting) plot map along with this chapter and three others (sadly, not in consecutive order).  
So yeah, I'll stick with small, but worthwhile chapters so your eyes aren't killed.

If any of you have any questions, comments, concerns, or objections, please feel free to say so in your reviews.

Hope you enjoyed! :D

- Kix


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